It's been a long week, one in which fatigue has ruled with an iron fist, and perhaps because of that, I've been effective in just focusing on work and just getting through the daily activities one needs to get through... preventing me from thinking too much about the reason for the fatigue. A few weeks ago, I was in Tucson attending a conference when I got a phone call from my doctor calmly explaining to me that there was nothing to really worry about but the ultrasound of my thyroid (the ultrasound that was meant to only be a baseline against an autoimmune disorder I was diagnosed with nearly two years ago) came back with unexpected results. Chances are it is nothing, but like so much in our ability to obtain answers it requires a process of elimination; to that end, the testing of the week required me to be off the medication that helps in controlling the symptoms and the progression of the disease. And so, among other things, the fatigue.
So what has this to do with Arby's? During the week preceding today the fatigue and associated pain wiped out almost any appetite I may have had for anything. Just after noon today though, I had a sudden and overwhelming desire for an Arby's roast beef sandwich. Given that I rarely eat red meat and have not eaten at an Arby's in years, it was surprising. It was not as surprising as the zest for which I actually dove into the victuals (or the fact that it did not render me ill). It was a hopeful sign that things are looking up.
It was after work that I decided I needed to stop at Kohl's, my hopefulness stretching to a three week quest for a replacement of my black shoe/boots... and ba-zinga! I found a pair--and on sale. In the same plaza is a pet store I like to frequent--it's locally owned and supports a local cat rescue. There are always 2-3 kittens in the store from the rescue for adoption. I stopped in for some treats for the boys and saw the tiniest three kittens I've seen in some time. Two gray and one black... still so little their fur still was a little scraggly from the growing in process. They stood and stared at me, stopping their vicious attack of yarn mousies nearly half their size. I reached in to pet one of them and s/he purred so incredibly loud it was heartbreaking to leave.
As I write I'm surrounded by purring and snoring sounds from my own kitties. They've been clingy the last few weeks, wanting to sit on my lap, share my pillow or have a paw on my arm all week. Jake has unburied me in the morning from my hair, but a little later than he might normally "ask" me to get up for their breakfast. They know. And life is good.
2 days ago